


Never Underestimate Stiles Stilinski

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: About a year or so after Derek left post season 4, BAMF!Stiles, Canon-Compliant, Derek is tortured by hunters, M/M, but Stiles saves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is taken and tortured by hunters, who are confident that they have the upper hand. </p><p>But they haven't met Stiles yet, who will stop at nothing to save Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Underestimate Stiles Stilinski

**Author's Note:**

> Based Off This Prompt:
> 
> _Person A being held hostage in a fortress and Person B violently leaving a mess of carnage in their wake in order to get to them. Covered in blood and questionable pieces of enemy remains, Person B finally makes it to Person A in the center of the wreckage and gives them a gentle peck on the forehead before apologizing for the wait._

When Derek wakes up with a pounding headache and his wrists handcuffed together behind his back, said handcuffs laced with wolfsbane, and his legs tied together with wolfsbane infused rope, Derek just sighs and rolls over onto his back, the position uncomfortable with his hands behind his back.

When Stiles had called Derek begging for his help - but as it was Stiles, it was more like he had _demanded_ Derek’s help - of course Derek had come running. 

It had been a year and a half since he had left Beacon Hills, and not once in any of their - admittedly many - phone calls, had Stiles ever asked for Derek to come back, always saying they were handling it, they had it. They were good. 

But Scott, Stiles and co. were back to Beacon Hills themselves for their first winter break of their college careers, and what they came back to was an infestation of hunters. Psychotic hunters bent on killing every last supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. And since they had all graduated and put the nematon back to sleep, so to say, Beacon Hills had become friendly again to all who enter it, including supernatural creatures. And it just so happened to have quite an abundance of them.

The hunters heard of this, and they couldn’t have that.

And so they were killing supernatural creature after supernatural creature, no matter if they were bad, good or in between. 

And there were too many hunters for even Scott McCall and his pack to take down. 

That is where Derek had come in.

Only there had been an ambush waiting for Derek when he got into town, and here he was. 

These weren’t Argent hunters - they barely even existed anymore, but they all knew who Derek Hale was. 

Of course. 

Almost immediately after Derek woke up, a face popped into his line of vision.

“Ah, so it’s awake.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “It?”

“How about you just don’t speak, werewolf,” the hunter spat, stomping her boot onto Derek’s hand.

Derek let out a yell in surprise and pain, but then quieted when she pistol whipped him. 

“So, _Derek Hale_ , I gotta ask. What the fuck are you doing back in Beacon fucking Hills?” She said, crouching down in front of him, pistol hanging in her hands that were dangling between her thighs. 

There were at least five hunters standing behind her and off to the side, three of them female, two of them males, all of them carrying a gun and looking at Derek like he was the scum of the earth.

These were hunters that were not anything close to as understanding and level-headed as Chris and Allison Argent had been. 

“Here to help out some friends,” Derek said simply, when two years ago, he wouldn’t have said anything and would have just glared in response. 

Head hunter tilted her head in question, her eyes unforgiving, face tight in constant anger and hatred. 

“Help them stop you,” Derek clarified, wincing at the sting of wolfsbane on his wrists.

Head hunter laughed short and loud at that, standing up. “I see that worked out for you and your friends. Real good job you’re doing,” and then laughed longer and louder this time, turning toward her companions. “Chain him up and torture him until he begs you to save his life.”

“You don’t want to do the honors?” One of the woman hunters asked, taking an eager step forward regardless, eyeing Derek like he was a particularly fun toy she loved to play with. 

It made Derek want to puke. 

“Nah,” Head hunter shrugged. “I’ve got an important meeting to attend.”

But that didn’t stop her from turning around, crouching down and pistol whipping Derek so hard on the head that he was knocked out once more.

~*~

They had taken off his shirt.

Why did they always take off his shirt when they tortured him?

And the fact that he’d been tortured enough times in his life that this was a common theme he noticed was sad enough. 

Derek knew how this old song and dance went. If they thought he’d break easily, then they were all amateurs. Derek never broke easily.

“Are your friends the ones that knocked out my friend and then had a fucking sheriff ship him off to prison?” One of the guy hunters asked, the one with dark skin, brown eyes, thick fingers, small ears, and a heavy build. He looked like he could take down Derek with the flick of the wrist. Although Derek liked to think he had a few tricks up his sleeves nowadays.

Derek didn’t respond, would never respond to that.

One of the woman hunters, the really pale one, sighed and pressed the button to start up the electricity again, but Derek barely reacted, only tightening his fists and pursing his lips to show he felt it at all. 

“You know that pack has a human in it,” another woman hunter spoke, standing over at the window on lookout, moonlight giving her an soft, almost earthy, beautiful quality. Until you saw the scars marring her arms, neck, face. If you took a closer look at her, she looked deadly. 

Derek tried not to tense at that. At the mention of Stiles. 

“He would rather fuck around with monsters than fight against them. The way I see it, he’s just as much a monster as Derek Hale.” She looked over at Derek as she said his name, her copper colored eyes sharp, hateful. 

Derek only looked back, not interested in falling into any traps. 

“Do you know of the boy, Hale?” She asked, turning back to looking out the window. “Ever fuck him?”

“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Derek asked mildly, even as his heart rate stuttered as it sped up, up, up. 

She gave a short laugh, not looking away from the window. “We know you were once a part of that pack, Hale. We all heard the stories.” 

“And that means I fucked this human?” Derek asked in a bored voice, not daring to let his feelings for Stiles show. 

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But we all know how big a hard on you’ve had for humans your whole life, don’t we, Derek?” And she turned back around at that. “Hell, we’re all standing in the evidence of that, aren’t we?”

Derek clenched his fists closed again, and his face tightened, but he said nothing. 

“Oh, excuse me, where the evidence used to be.” She corrected. “They got rid of that when you weren’t able to hold onto it anymore. Just like everything else in your life.”

“So, you have a hard on for this boy, too?” She asked, and when Derek said nothing, just looked away, Derek heard her laugh. “You do. You want to fuck the human in the McCall pack. Oh, this is rich.” 

All the hunters in the room laughed then, and Derek didn’t react, looked straight at the wall on the newly built house on the Hale property no one had wanted to buy. It had been sitting on the market for months and months. 

“Or have you already fucked him? Is that it?”

“Look, are you going to fucking torture me already or continue gossiping?” Derek snapped, looking back at her, and she laughed again, walking over to the machine where the pale hunter still sat and pressed the button herself, and the shock was more, harsher this time, and Derek flinched. 

The woman went back to her post by the window, the sound of her boots on the hardwood floor the only sound in the room. 

“Derek Hale, born werewolf, a human lover.”

“Not so much loving humans right now,” Derek snapped, glaring over at her.

“Just one in particular.”

Derek sighed, done playing her games. He and Stiles had only seen each other twice in the last year and a half. How could they have possibly guessed what Derek felt for the human. 

“How do you think we knew you were coming to Beacon Hills, Derek?” The last woman in the room who hadn’t talked yet asked. 

Derek looked over at where she was leaning against the wall, ponytail high, sniper rifle hanging on her shoulder. 

“We looked at all their phones. We have our own tech geek, ya know.”

The other guy in the room smirked, “We all saw your besotted texts back and forth with the boy.” 

Derek froze at this revelation. 

“’Derek, when can we see each other again? I already miss your hands on my skin, the feeling of you inside me. I want you.’” The other man said, seeming to recall the text from his memory. 

“’I want you, too,’” the man did a poor imitation of Derek’s voice, breaking and laughing at the words. “’So move to Berkley with me, Derek. Be with me.’”

“I want, I need you, I love you, of course I will. Always and forever, to the stars and back, our love forever!” The man yelled, then broke down into hysterical giggles. That last ‘text’ was of course made up. That had not been how Derek had responded to Stiles’ text. Derek had actually called Stiles after he’d read that text about moving to the same city as him and talked it out with him. 

The man was only mocking Derek now, mocking Stiles. And that…that Derek wouldn’t stand for. 

Derek pulled so hard at his restraints that the wall shook, and the hunters stopped laughing then. 

Derek was electrocuted again, this time hard enough for Derek to let out an involuntary gasp. 

“We hit a nerve, Hale?” The heavily built man asked, tilted his head to aim a look at Derek. 

“Fuck off,” Derek spat.

“Note it down,” The hunter at the window said, looking back at them. “Hale is in love with Stilinski. We can use that.”

Then the shock of electricity came again, and Derek groaned. 

“Up the voltage,” she said, and pale hunter did as she was told, smirking over at Derek as she did.

~*~

It went on for so long that Derek lost consciousness several times, had to cough out blood that rose up into his mouth, the hunters came and went. But it was always the same five, although Derek heard there were at least twenty more outside, protecting the property. 

At one point, Stiles called Derek’s phone, and pale hunter picked up the phone, showed who was calling to the others and answered. 

“I’m sorry, Derek can’t come to the phone right now. He’s a little detained,” she grinned, and Derek heard Stiles swear, telling her to tell him where they were. “Now why would we do that, Stiles? That would just make it easy.”

“I swear to fucking god, if you kill Derek-”

“Oh sweetie, don’t worry. Your beloved monster is still alive and well,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“You guys are going to wish you hadn’t taken him.”

Pale hunter laughed, throwing back her head in her glee. “Oh, sweetie, you’re cute. Don’t worry, we’ll give you back your toy eventually, when we get bored of him.”

There was silence, heavy breathing on the other side of the phone, and Derek found the strength to look up towards pale hunter, to wonder what Stiles was going to say.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stop you before you do.”

Pale hunter laughed again and hung up, throwing Derek’s phone at the wall, smashing it to pieces.

“Your little bitch is a firecracker, I’ll give you that, Hale,” she said. “Too bad he’s going to be taken down just like the rest of you supernatural shit heads. He marked himself for death the minute he sided with you.” 

Derek didn’t have it in himself to respond, but he could only stand there and think of how wrong she was.

And how much she would come to regret underestimating Stiles Stilinski.

~*~

Derek next woke up to the sounds of gunfire, shouting and the hunters with him jumping up, turning toward the doorway, guns pointed at it. 

Derek found enough strength to look up, and no one even jumped at the sound of a loud thump outside the door, followed by a shout and another loud thump.

Everyone waited on baited breath, not daring to move, waiting for what happened next.

Derek didn’t even wonder at who was out there. He already knew. 

The door banged open and the tech geek was the first to go down, Stiles rushing forward, dropping his bat as he went, and taking his gun out of his hand before he pistol whipped him across the head. 

Then he shot pale hunter in the leg and arm before she could get her shots off, and Stiles dodged the shots of the others, rolling on the ground behind the table. 

He took down the other guy by shooting his leg, then the shoulder of the arm that held his gun, sending it flying.

Copper eyes got to Stiles, though, and they fought on the ground, rolling around as they threw punches. scratched, kicked, fought to win. 

Copper eyes banged Stiles’ head down on the ground, and Derek shouted, then, when he’d been deadly quiet before, and he strained against the shackles holding him back. 

Stiles kneed Copper eyes in the stomach and she coughed and rolled off of him, and Stiles had enough time to reach for the gun and shoot her. Leg, shoulder, arm. 

Stiles wasn’t shooting to kill. He was shooting to survive. He was shooting to save Derek and not kill in the process.

Derek was in awe. 

The last female hunter in the room then came up on Stiles from behind, shoving Stiles into the wall, twisting his arm that held the gun. 

Stiles head butted her, sending her head flying back, blood pouring into her mouth as her teeth fell out of her mouth and onto the ground.

Stiles rounded on her and kneed her in the stomach as he had done with Copper eyes, and she went down with a wheeze.

Stiles reached for the gun and once more - leg, arm, shoulder. 

Then there silence as they all lay on the floor either knocked out or incapacitated enough that they couldn’t move very far without feeling searing pain. Copper eyes shouted out in pain when she tried to stand, and fell back the ground again.

Stiles was standing there, panting, blood soaked on one of his favorite plaid shirts, on his pants, on his boots.

Then Stiles turned to Derek, and Derek also saw the blood on his face, his hands. 

“Derek,” Stiles breathed, and then he dropped the gun and was rushing forward to him. He wrapped Derek up in a hug so tight that Derek wished with every fucking fiber of his being that he could return it. 

Stiles let out a relieved sob, and Derek sighed out a small, “Stiles.”

Stiles pulled back, taking Derek’s haggard face in his hands, and he looked at Derek so adoringly, so full of love, that Derek felt tears fill his eyes. Fuck, Stiles had turned Derek into such a sap. 

Stiles let out a relieved laugh and reached up to kiss Derek softly on the forehead, still holding his face in his hands. 

“Sorry for the wait, asshole,” Stiles whispered, voice filled with affection.

“You better be, fucker,” Derek said weakly, smiling when Stiles pulled back to glare at him.

“I just saved your life, asshole, ‘cause you and I both know they weren’t going to let you live, so you could be grateful.”

“How about we just start with you getting me out of these chains and us getting the fuck out of here?” Derek asked, and Stiles’ eyes widened and he rushed into to action, running over to get the key to let Derek out.

Just before Stiles let him out of the last restraint, he took the back of Derek’s neck and pulled him forward to kiss him hard and desperate on the lips, tongue tangling with his. Derek couldn’t hold back the whimper, then. Fuck, but he had missed kissing Stiles Stilinski. 

Then Stiles pulled back, and unchained the last chain on Derek’s right wrist. 

Derek hadn’t been expecting not being able to stand, but Stiles was there to catch him, his breath soft on his neck as he held him up. “There we go, big guy, you’re okay. Come on.”

Just as Stiles got Derek’s arm over his shoulders, an arm around his waist, and they turned toward the door, it burst open, and in came the Sheriff, Scott, and Lydia.

They looked around at all the damage, at the bleeding - or knocked out - but alive hunters on the ground. Two of them were moaning in pain, which Derek hadn’t even heard, not when Stiles, who he hadn’t seen in months, was right there in front of him, kissing him, touching him, smiling at him. 

“Jesus Christ, Stiles,” John said.

Stiles look unapologetic as he answered his father. “They had Derek and they were going to kill him. I had to do something.”

“I know, son, but-”

“But nothing. They’ll live,” Stiles said, and then he walked forward with Derek, who hated that he could barely walk, even with Stiles holding him up. 

Derek saw Scott pick up Stiles bat, and he nodded as Stiles caught his eye. 

“Lydia would be screaming her head off right now if they were going to die as well,” Stiles called back to his father.

Lydia nodded, and moved aside when Stiles and Derek got to the door. 

“Good to see you, Derek,” Lydia said, and Derek nodded, reached up to give her shoulder a weak squeeze. 

“You too.”

Unlike Stiles, he hadn’t seen Lydia or Scott or anyone else, for that matter, since he had left Beacon Hills. He had talked some to Scott, but other than that, the only one he had really kept in touch with had been Stiles. And he had fallen in love with Stiles over the phone.

Or he should say, he continued to fall in love with Stiles over the phone until he couldn’t deny it anymore.

He’d already been falling for Stiles long before he left Beacon Hills. It just took him a long time to realize that.

When Derek was particularly missing Stiles he would think back to their night together that summer, the night when Derek and Stiles had slept together for the first time.

He would remember Stiles’ pleasure-filled sighs, his gasps, his moans, his fingertips trailing down Derek’s back, soothing, before they held on as Derek thrust into him, then his nails digging into his back as Derek went faster, thrust harder, got rougher. 

He would remember the feel of Stiles’ lips against his, against his neck, he would remember them sliding down his chest, looking down at his dark brown hair as he took Derek’s cock into his mouth enthusiastically, but skillfully.

Derek hadn’t let himself think of where Stiles had learned to suck cock. Wouldn’t let any jealousy taint their one night together. 

He would remember how tight Stiles was around him, how he whispered sweet nothings into Derek’s ear, things he would only, had only, ever said to Derek. 

He would remember Stiles digging his heels into Derek’s ass to get him to go deeper, his loud moans as Derek hit his prostate over and over and over again. 

He would remember Stiles taking him by his hair and pulling him up to look down at him, to lean up and kiss Derek softly, lovingly on the lips as Derek pounded into him. 

He would remember Stiles holding onto Derek, arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs around around his waist, as he came, as he threw his head back and cried out his pleasure. 

He would remember feeling Stiles around him, how he tightened and pulled Derek’s orgasm from him, moments after he had come. 

He would remember how amazing it had felt, the whole experience, how he’d never felt closer to anyone in his whole life.

And it hadn’t just been the sex. It was because it had been Stiles.

And he would remember laying with Stiles afterward, wrapping himself around the younger man, and the kisses they shared, the sweet words that they could both only say in such an intimate, sweet, personal moment. And he would remember staying wrapped around Stiles as they fell asleep, and getting one of the best nights sleep he had ever gotten in his life, wrapped up in and around Stiles Stilinski.

He would remember it all. 

Derek was still wrapped up in those thoughts as Stiles hauled him outside, helped him to his jeep - that was still alive and kicking after all this time. It was one tough car. Just like its owner.

There were more police out there, cuffing up all the hunters that Stiles had taken out to get to Derek - all twenty five of them - jesus fucking christ, the man he loved was a motherfucking badass. 

The cops ignored Stiles and Derek, and more cops came as they made it to Stiles’ jeep. 

“You didn’t kill any of them,” Derek murmured as Stiles opened the passenger door for him.

Stiles looked at Derek, brows furrowed. “Nooo, did you want me to?”

“No, no,” Derek shook his head. “Of course not. I just…didn’t know it was possible to take on all those hunters and not kill them. And live yourself.”

Stiles smirked, then. “What can I say? I took some lessons while you were away.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Lessons?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Stiles chuckled, and then he looked serious. “I would never kill anyone unless I absolutely had to. Unless it was the only way to save my life or save the ones I love.”

Derek smiled, leaned forward, hand on the back of Stiles’ head, and kissed him. “I know.”

Stiles smiled, humming as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Derek’s. It was startling intimate, and extremely welcome. Derek basked in it, in the overwhelming love he felt for this nineteen-year-old boy standing in front of him. 

“Am I one of them?” Derek murmured, and Stiles didn’t even have to ask what Derek meant by that.

“Yes,” Stiles breathed. “I love you.”

Derek’s smile felt like it could break his face, it was so wide. “I know.”

Stiles laughed, then, and he surged forward to kiss Derek long and hard, falling back against his jeep - and slamming the passenger door shut in the process - and bringing Derek with him by a hand on his shirt, pulling him in. 

Stiles still had blood in his face, on his hands, all over his clothes, over his shoes, everywhere, and Derek could still barely stand, could still feel the shocks of electricity running through his body, but none of it mattered just then. There was only Stiles. Only Stiles. 

“You Han Solo’d me,” Stiles breathed when they finally broke away from the kiss. “You’re officially my favorite. But shh, don’t tell Scott. He’ll get all pouty and sad.”

Derek laughed. “I love you.”

Stiles’ features softened, and his smile then came naturally and easily. “I know.”


End file.
